New baguazhang class in Singapore

Just FYI: Madam Ge will be starting new bagua classes this coming weekend.Last weekend we completed the basic linked palms form; now, from Saturday, we’ll be beginning a new 3-month session studying the 8 Mother Palms. See here for details. See you there?

Mud stepping

I’ve heard a couple of people, both bagua instructors, ask recently what the value of mud stepping is. “You would never use it in combat”, they say. Well, I don’t know; I can’t even do it consistently in practise, so I need to hold off making a judgement for quite some time. My teachers may know, but if they do I don’t know if they’ve said anything about it because I don’t speak Chinese and neither of them speaks English. (I’m not counting Alex here, because I’ve only had the one workshop with him so far).

And yet: mud stepping is a fundamental part of baguazhang. Did Dong Hai Chuan practise it himself? I’m not sure, based on my reading. Yin Fu probably didn’t since, in my very limited understanding, it doesn’t feature strongly in the Yin Fu style. Cheng Ting Hua certainly did use mud stepping, and so we can be pretty certain that it was endorsed by Dong, bagua’s founder. So mud stepping has been a part of bagua since the lifetime of bagua’s founder, if not from the very, very beginning. Since Dong and Cheng can be understood to have known what they were doing in combat, we can also safely assume that it’s useful and functional, and anyone trying to dismiss it now must be lacking some kind of insight.

So, what’s it for? This will be the subject of years of experimentation and speculation for me, I guess, as I try to attend to exactly what my body is doing during circle-walking sessions. Here are some initial thoughts:

• Mud stepping, done properly, means that the sole of the foot is never exposed, and therefore isn’t vulnerable to attack. I heard this explanation in Beijing, but I’m not convinced by it.
• In circle walking, the ‘inner’ foot steps forward in a straight line; the ‘outer’ foot steps inward in a kou bu. Since mud stepping extends the front foot further forward than in a normal step, the back leg has to swing in a bigger arc as it comes forward. This stretches and opens the hips and the base of the spine.
• This same action encourages softness and ‘emptiness’ in the waist, and the tucking in of the coccyx; it’s much, much easier to walk the circle whilst mud stepping with these two postural habits (which are mentioned in the Cheng style’s Ten Important Points and Eight Methods). This helps to build up qi, as well as flexibility.
• Similarly, keeping the head upright and the back straight (also part of the Ten Important Points and Eight Methods. It’s much easier to get away with slouching or leaning back with normal stepping; very difficult with mud stepping.
• Mud stepping demands that the circle walker is able to drop his weight and centre of gravity to the lower dan tian. You just can’t do this step properly if your shoulders are all bunched up and your centre of gravity is high.
• As the forward foot slides forwards, the back leg is bearing the body’s whole weight, while that weight is sinking (the body has to come down as the foot goes forward), and then propels the weight forward. This strengthens the achilles tendon, the ankle, stretches the hamstring, and develops lots of muscles in the lower leg area. This develops explosive power, endurance, and flexibility.
• For the same reason, ie holding the entire body weight, mud stepping encourages the practioner to walk properly. We may think that we do anyway, but we often don’t. Many of us would just have to look at the soles of our everyday shoes to see that they are more worn in some places than others. That indicates bad habits in walking, where we load our weight badly. Mud stepping, to be done properly, needs the feet to land flat, and the weight to be transferred smoothly and evenly along the centre line of the foot. I know that day-to-day, I tend to put the weight more on one side than the other, so my feet roll as I walk. It’s a bad habit that mud stepping is correcting.
• Mud stepping unquestionably improves the practitioner’s sense of balance.
• Note that lots of these attributes may well be particularly valuable to a wrestler, which was Cheng’s background before he began to study with Dong.

These are a few points based on my observation so far during my practise. It still doesn’t mean that you would use mud stepping in combat. However, it’s pretty clear to me that you’ll be better in combat if you use mud stepping in training.

Feel free to add more in the comments, or to explain to me why I’m wrong. These are just observations from a novice; I’m aware that my ignorance is boundless.

A new name for Nam Wah Pai

As I mentioned previously, it seems that there’s been a split between the Sim brothers at Nam Wah Pai. As I understand it, one outcome is that my old teacher, Sim Poh Huat, is no longer able to use the name of his brother’s teacher, Wu Tu Nan, or to promote his school as coming from that lineage.

It seems he is now using his own name, which I hadn’t seen given quite so much prominence before. There was a new advert in last Thursday’s Straits Times that was notable for a couple of reasons. Firstly, it was in the main News section; my recollection was that it was usually in the Home section (but I may be wrong about that). Secondly, the school has a new name. I’ll quote the full advert for reference.

WORLD NAM WAH PAI
SIM POH HUAT QIGONG ASSOCIATION

Singapore 1st

Grand Master Sim Poh Huat, holder of the highest level in Qigong, locally and overseas as well as a world reknowned demonstrated [sic] of the prowess of using inner strength to flung [sic] off an opponent without physical contact.

• Does a diabetic patient need long-term medication?
• Is it true that there is no cure for liver hardening?
• Are you worried about getting cancer?
• Is dialysis the only treatment for kidney failure?
• Are you concerned about having hypertension?
• Addresses all vital organ problem [sic].

Grand Master Sin Poh Huat explains how the five elements develop eight of the twelve acupressure points to nurture your inner strength and enjoy a healthy life.

For those that are weak, you are welcome to listen to a talk rediscover your health.

Practice sessions: Mon-Sat, 7pm-10pm.

No. 9, Lorong 29 Geylang #05-01

HP: 9857 4553

Website: www.namwahpai.com

The split has led to promotion: he didn’t used to have the title Grand Master.

From personal experience, I know that my health got a lot better when I was attending classes in Lorong 29. However, I’ve never seen him demonstrate “flinging off an opponent without physical contact”. Nor have I seen proof that qigong can cure kidney failure or any of the other medical conditions mentioned – although, a number of school members are willing to attest to this having happened to them. At the end of the day, I still felt enough benefit that I intend to go back in the future, when time and finances allow, so what more can I say?

Alex Kozma: baguazhang weekend workshop

I should post something about this before the bruises fade, hehehe. My forearms are yellow, gradually turning green and black, with other patches on my upper arms, shoulder and chest!

In itself, that shows the value of the workshop: it took baguazhang seriously as a martial art and, although Alex didn’t use anywhere near his full power, it certainly was a change from the purely form-based practice that I’m doing with Ge Chunyan, and at the school I went to in Beijing. This article at Formosa Neijia is spot on in this regard! In truth, I don’t really know what to write: the weekend was like drinking from a firehose (to use an MBA cliche) – so much ground covered in such a short time. In any case, I don’t want to give away Alex’s training programme without permission. So let’s say that, amonsgst much else, we did some work on the single palm change, practised a few different variations, and a lot of sparring practice.

I learned that when it comes to sparring, I need to work on controlling and directing my force; I need to work harder on suppressing my flinch response (!) – and I definitely need to identify some good conditioning techniques! By the end of the first day, my forearms were really swollen and very tender
Alex is quite clear that he teaches principles and applications above all, and that the set forms are less important. He includes a lot of philosophy as well; baguazhang is not just about being an extremely effective fighting style, it’s also a vehicle for personal transformation.

I found some of the work we did on the different elemental forms, and the way in which a single given movement can be radically different depending on which element is guiding it, to be profoundly interesting. Extrapolating this (ie this is my opinion, not what Alex said – so don’t blame him if I’m wrong!) this is why some teachers are wrong when they say that studying (or at least being aware of) the I Ching isn’t necessary. My understanding, particularly after my experience of this workshop, is that understanding the meaning, elemental association, and underlying concepts of each hexagram – and the way one can change into another – gives a tremendously valuable insight into how to approach and use baguazhang techniques.

There was a very interesting mix of attendees, most of whom had previous martial arts experience. There were quite a few wing chun people, as well as karate and aikido practitioners. I was definitely one of the less skilled there!

By the way, don’t misinterpret my comment above: I’m in no way denigrating the way Ge Chun Yan teaches. As I mentioned previously, she’s taking it slow with her students and teaching the basics carefully and slowly. Two other students of hers, T.K. and Jono, also attended Alex’s workshop, and we all went to her class on the Saturday evening. It was interesting that she also showed us an application then – on using Kou bu to hook an opponent’s ankle before bringing your weight down on their knee joint.

Speaking of which, one of the applications Alex taught us was a takedown using a scissors move; I’ve never seen bagua ground fighting before….

Just before the end of the workshop on Sunday afternoon, Alvin and his brother popped in to take a look, and demonstrated some xingyi techniques. They’re trying to arrange an opportunity for Alex to meet their teacher, Victor Chong, which should be interesting.

Anyway, it seems Alex will be in Singapore a lot more in the future. Excellent…

Update: I find I keep on coming back to add to this post! I also want to record that we did a lot of work on awareness of the body, mind and space; feeling the joints and curves, and of angles and lines. Some interesting qigong techniques, and flexibility techniques…

Baguazhang pictures

Of the people, not the forms.

Ge Chunyan & class:

Alex Kozma & class:

A mainstream article on baguazhang

I just thought I’d record this article, which I found via a discussion on one of the Yahoo! bagua groups. It’s from the Austin American Statesman, and since I don’t know how long their articles stay online, I reproduce it here for reference. (If anyone from the Statesman objects, let me know and I’ll take it down immediately). It’s really interesting to see a mainstream paper publishing a thoughtful piece on bagua, and trying to explain something of its nature, properties, and benefits.

Martial artists practice their bagua, smile and say ‘chi’

Rare form of movement is said to liberate your energy while it works your tendons and organs.

By J.J. McLaughlinSPECIAL TO THE AMERICAN-STATESMAN

Monday, August 14, 2006When it comes to walking the line in martial arts — amid the clang of swords, the clatter of staves and the thud of fists and feet — there’s nothing like “walking the circle” to get the blood flowing for combat.That’s because, in the rarefied martial art known as Yin style baguazhang, or bagua, effective fighting is all about moving toward one’s center.

“Anytime you revolve around a circle, it’s going to bring your mind and body into alignment,” says Kuan Wang, a 25-year-old Austin bagua instructor.

He crouches like a tiger. His open palms make circular strikes in the air. A gentle tide of breath follows every thrusting snap during his class in the Ironsmith studio at 1701 W. 35th St.

“Balance and strength are in the hands of physics in this martial art,” Wang says.

In bagua (pronounced bogwa), the practice of circle walking is used to overcome opponents and also to strengthen one’s innards. Unlike karate or tae kwon do, bagua — little known in the U.S. — is more of an internal martial art. It is similar to tai chi, in that the two martial arts share a meditative base and are supposed to be good for your tendons, organs and meridians — interconnected channels for energy transmission in traditional Chinese medicine.

“Our bodies are like plumbing and bagua is simply the ‘Drano’ that unclogs everything that’s building up,” says Wang.

Derived from the Taoist philosophy, bagua was founded about 150 years ago in China. Baguazhang literally means “eight diagram palm” and is based on the fighting styles of eight different animals: lion, dragon, snake, bear, phoenix, monkey, rooster and kirin (an animal in Chinese lore that changes form).

The body’s equilibrium and toughness are built through strength-training postures, breathing techniques and movements that focus in on balance, fluidity and body unity. Wang says that understanding how gravity works through the body and its meridians can unlock a lot of energy.

Wang trained in his native Taiwan and with bagua grand master He Jinbao for six hours a day, practicing all the animal forms of fighting. He is one of the only official disciples of bagua in the U.S.

“Once you really connect with your body through the form movements, you’ll start to peel the onion and see all the layers within yourself,” Wang says while forcefully jabbing himself in the neck, eye, stomach, groin and face to demonstrate his threshold for pain. Wang then instructs his students to hit him anywhere on his body. He shows no sign of pain.

Li Huei, a bagua student, says that in all her years studying martial arts, she’s never come across anything as complex as bagua. “There’s a lot of internal energy growth with bagua, and that’s why you can hit him anywhere and he won’t feel pain,” she says.

Parallels can be drawn between bagua and acupuncture. With the constant twisting and turning of the joints, muscles and internal organs during training, Wang says that the meridians are massaged and in turn send energy to all parts of the body.

During this particular lesson, Wang tries to instill strength in Huei. “I haven’t found my chi energy yet, and that could take a lifetime,” she says.

The essence of bagua orbits around the use of momentum, Wang says. “It’s a unique martial art because it is designed for every body type, and the skinniest guy could overtake a giant,” he adds. Instead of directly attacking an oncoming force, bagua redirects the attack by repositioning for better maneuvering.

The eight different animal forms are stylized fighting systems catering to different body types, Wang says while instructing his students as they walk in circular patterns.

“Everyone who walks the circle has a different gift,” Wang says, “and you’ll start to see it the more you walk the circle.”

Thinking about death

No, I haven’t got all morbid, don’t worry. As I mentioned before, I’ve rather neglected my meditation and Buddhist studies of late, so this week I’ve started paying more attention to them. On Tuesday night, I went along to the Basic Buddhism class at the Odiyana Centre, and last night to the Awaken class at the Kong Meng San Phor Kark See Monastery. Coincidentally, both classes focussed on the transience of life, and the inevitability of death – and so the importance of preparation for death.

Tuesday’s session over-ran, and we didn’t have time for discussion (this happens a lot – Wangchog gets carried away, and always has just a bit more he wants to say before the end of the class!).

Last night did have group discussions. In my group, there was quite a variance in our understanding of death, of how negative karma affects rebirth, and so on. One woman said she was afraid of dying in her sleep, because then she wouldn’t be able to control where she was reborn… I’m not sure that’s how it works…

Quite a few people thought that karma, and bad  karma in particular, can’t be changed; once you’ve got it you’ve got it, and you’ll just have to suffer the consequences. Here I’m on shaky ground, but I don’t think I agree with this. The way I understood this, as taught in the Goenka retreats I’ve attended, is that karma is purely internal to us, and is carried within our ‘mental continuum’, from life to life. So, there is no third party with karmic record books, saying “Aha, 500 lifetimes ago you told a lie, therefore in this life you will suffer a penalty”.

Rather, we carry the karmic seed ourselves, and ourselves create the conditions that will allow it to flourish. These seeds have strength, and are able to develop, because we are attached to them, and give them their strength. Through meditation, however, we can – with hard work, and persistence – identify these seeds of bad karma, and undo our attachment to them. Thus, they lose their strength, and their effects are weakened, or even negated entirely. As our practice becomes stronger, we can erase initially the bad karma from this lifetime and, eventually, all the bad karma we have carried with us from previous lifetimes.

Though I am certainly no Buddhist scholar, I think I’m backed up in this by the story of Angulimala, the killer who must have accumulated unthinkable amounts of bad karma and yet, through practice and meditation, was eventually able to achieve enlightenment in that same lifetime.

What does this have to do with preparing for our own death? My own view is that I have been close to being killed on a number of occasions; I once tried to count them up, and got to about eight, I think. So I know very well, that death can arrive suddenly and without warning. When people fear a lingering death from illness or whatever, it isn’t really death, but pain that they’re afraid of – something else entirely. I guess this means that I feel we should try to make sure that every day, we try not to accumulate any new bad karma, and we should meditate regularly to diminish the bad karma we already have.

Note that I say “this is what we should do”! I can’t say I am succeeding particularly well, but I’m working on it!

Death of a diet, part 3

I’ve been invited to give a talk to some students at Ngee Ann Polytechnic. This invitation comes via Patricia, the German member of Chin Woo’s Lion Dance team who, it turned out, is a lecturer there.

We originally discussed the idea some time ago, and – as one does – I agreed to do it and then promptly forgot all about it. Last night, we met up to discuss it in more detail, which occurred over a large and rich (and cheap and tasty) meal in Little India.

We’ll both be discussing our experiences of working around the world, what it’s meant to us, and how it’s affected us. I’ll be talking mostly about my time in Africa; we both think it will be interesting to make the students think about apartheid and its underlying philosophy. That will just be a small part of it; I’ll also be talking about Ntate Chencha (the local witch doctor), the otherworldly initiation groups, and so on.

The talk should be fun (it will be at the end of October, most likely), but by gosh, I ate a lot last night!

Death of a diet, part 2

September    1st is Teachers’ Day in Singapore, and this is taken very seriously – unusual, to the eyes of someone from the cynical, jaded West.

Madame Ge was giving a bagua demonstration on Saturday night, so we took her out for a meal on Sunday, instead – which worked out well for me, as I didn’t need to choose between capoeira and bagua events.

We went to a Chinese seafood restaurant at Marine Parade Central. Naturally, all the courses were fish, but the staff brought me my own, separate, little veggie dish at each serving! It was really nice stuff, but by the time of the final, main, course I was so full that I couldn’t eat more than a couple of spoonfuls, and had to leave the rest – and there was no way I could face any dessert!

Most of the evening’s conversation was in Mandarin, as Madame Ge doesn’t speak English, but I’m used to that, and  anywaymy classmates gave me some translation.

It seems Madame Ge came to Singapore in 1993 when her husband got a job here, but she only started teaching bagua two years ago – I think because she was raising her kids in the meantime, but I may have misunderstood. That’s why she didn’t take any students to participate in Saturday night’s demonstration; she says no-one is ready to represent the school in public.

In that Chinese way, as soon as the food was finished, we all got up and left; not for the Chinese the post-food chat and lounging around of the West! So, I waddled over to the bus stop and came home.

A good film, and bad karma

I went to see Lucky Number Slevin yesterday at the Cathay Theatrehouse. First time I’ve been there, and I got a mixed impression. The temperature and sound were great, but they need better soundproofing – the audio from the theatres next door was very audible. I loved the film, and it deserves its great reviews. I’m a total Lucy Liu fanboy, of course, but still: great film, lots of sympathetic characters, a fairly basic plot but handled well.

After that I popped down to Boat Quay, hoping to meet someone, but missing them. Sadly, my mood, and evening, were spoiled by some fat, boorish middle-aged Dutchmen, who managed to  get me really angry with their behaviour. Sigh. I shouldn’t have let them provoke me, and I earned some bad karma.

Recently, I haven’t meditated much and put most of my spare time into martial arts. I think that in September, I need to reverse this somewhat, and concentrate on mental, spiritual, and physical detoxification.